When I was a kid I hated the water at our house. It never came out of the tap cold and no matter how long you let it run it stayed lukewarm. Yuk. It also tasted ‘earthy’. It looked clear and, most likely, it was. But it tasted like earth smells. Sorry, that’s the best description I can come up with at the moment. At my grandmother’s (paternal), the water was delicious. Even the first drop out of the tap was icy cold. It was so clear it was blue. And it tasted ‘clean’. Pure. Refreshing. Like you’d gone way up in the mountains and found it, gurgling away, in a spring. Amazing. I’d drink glass after glass, and so did everyone else who ever went there for a visit.
My mother, who never could duplicate any of my grandmother’s recipes, was convinced that her water made a difference. Not sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.
The water where I live now is definitely not tasty. It usually comes out of the tap warm although, on occasion, it’s cool. But most of the time it has a metallic taste. Most unpleasant. And there’s often a slight chemical odour that accompanies it. I stick to bottled water — but not all kinds.
To begin with, I prefer ‘still’. From time to time I want some fizz, and my favourite is Apollinaris. A naturally sparkling mineral water from Germany, it’s considered “The Queen of Table Waters” — something I did not know until right this minute, when I Continue reading